


it flows like some magical stream (and carries you on its journey)

by novae



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Shameless Indulgence, erp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novae/pseuds/novae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An obligatory post-4x09 future Stilinski family feels fic. </p><p>Or, the one where <i>The Little Mermaid</i> proves itself as a timeless classic. Future!fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it flows like some magical stream (and carries you on its journey)

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from Vienna Teng's "Anna Rose." 
> 
> have i ever mentioned how much i love future!stydia fics? because i do. _a lot_. as such, this is a short, shameless indulgence of sorts, written in the wee hours of dawn. h-hha. also, circumstances being so, unbeta'd! please to pardon any mistakes found!
> 
> happy reading!

When Daddy opens the front door, one foot steps right back out again. He stares at her, his eyes wide, and Allison cannot help the giggle that escapes her.

"Oh my God," he says finally, and his face looks as white as Grandpoppa's hair. "It’s Ariel 2.0."

The corner of Daddy’s mouth lifts then, curves into that little smile that appears whenever he is thinking of an Inside Joke (not to be confused with an Indoor Voice which, according to Mommy, is something Daddy  _doesn't_  have). The keys go  _krrrrr-plink!_  as they clatter into the Princess Elsa tray beside the door and Daddy sighs tiredly, rolls his neck from side to side. "Where’s Allie?" he asks then, and blinks down at Allison, frowning. "Have you seen her? Allie? Allison Stilinski, who doesn't finish her vegetables and tries to feed them to the cats instead? The daughter of my loins – the one required to both pay for my Social Security benefits and kiss my cheek? Though not necessarily in that order."

Allison does not know what 'loins' means, but it _does_ remind her that they are having pork chops for dinner tonight. She wiggles her toes thoughtfully. "We-ell," she offers after a moment, cautiously, " _I_  could kiss you, if you like. I'm a Princess."

Daddy studies her for exactly five seconds, sighs, and scoops her up with a grunt. His arms are strong and steady around her, and when she presses her cheek against his jacket, she can smell pine trees and nighttime. "We-ell," Daddy’s voice rumbles somewhere above her, "I guess you'll have to do."

 

* * *

 

The kitchen is warm and bright, decorated with flowers and Mommy’s favorite Erb plants. Mommy has also left the window open tonight, so one of the yellow, polka-dotted curtains is waving in greeting, its long arm slowly fluttering away and back, away and back –

"If I knew this condition was hereditary, I would have thought twice before marrying you," she hears Daddy say above her to where Mommy is. "Where did she even get the costume?"

 "Kira," Mommy’s voice replies, and Allison knows she is talking about Auntie Kiki. Aunt Kiki is Uncle Scott’s wife, and she is always smiling and laughing. Allison likes her very much. "And don’t be silly. It’s sweet, and you know it."

"Oh yeah? Is that what it is?" But then Daddy is moving, and Allison feels herself being shifted slightly in his arms so he can lean over and kiss Mommy hello. Allison has to crane her head a little as to keep her cheery, waving friend in sight...

"Allie." Mommy’s voice is much closer now, gentle but firm, and Allison breaks away from watching the curtain to look into warm, green eyes. "Honey, would you like to help set the table?"

"Okay." She slips down from Daddy’s arms onto the cooler kitchen tiles. "Forks and spoons and naifs. _K_ -naifs." She wanders over to the drawer that is beside the dishwasher and pulls on it, tiptoeing so she can see the neat rows of forks, spoons, and knives lying inside, asleep in their beds. Carefully, Allison counts out three of each kind, beginning with forks because it is first  _a b c d e f_ , right?

"Right," Mommy says.

The order of the rest of the alphabet is a little tricky, though, but then Mommy says "What about that song we learned?" and Allison begins again.  _A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j_ …

 _"K,"_  Daddy says as he passes by, and scoops the pointy knives up. He tugs lightly on one of her curls. "What comes next, Princess?" When Allison enters the dining room, Daddy has finished laying the knives down and is jogging victory laps around the dining table.

Allison laughs. "The  _k_ -naifs are not straight! You’re  _silly_ , Daddy," she says, echoing Mommy’s favorite words.

"Excuse me?" Daddy says. "What?  _Silly_? I am not  _si_  – Lydia, did you hear that? Can we have the  _real_  bad influence around here please stand up?"

"Stop being silly, especially since you're already standing," Mommy’s voice says from the kitchen, but it is her smiley voice, the one with crinkly eyes. Allison carefully places a spoon down next to the fork so that  _they,_  at least, are both exactly straight, and tries to wrinkle her own eyes.

"Are you having a seizure? At your age?" Daddy asks.

"Nooo," Allison explains patiently. "I’m trying to smile like Mommy."

"Ah." There is understanding in Daddy’s voice. "That one where her eyes give away how old she’s becoming?"

Mommy appears in the doorway then, all frowny and loose hair the same color as Allison’s. " _Stiles_ ," she says, in that same way she does when Allison forgets to turn off the faucet. But Daddy only reaches over, pulls Mommy into his arms and kisses her loudly on the mouth.

"Eurgh," Allison offers, wrinkling her nose. Mommy breaks away, slaps Daddy (who is laughing his wheezy laugh) on the shoulder and replies, "'Eurgh' is  _exactly_  right, sweetheart."

 

* * *

 

 

"All right, you little monster, what’ll it be?"

Allison is warm and very cozy, right down to the tips of her toes. She snuggles deeper beneath her blankets until only her nose and eyes peep out. Daddy stands with his hands on his hips, panting slightly, having successfully finished tussling her into "something –  _anything_  – that  _isn't_ a Halloween costume."

"The Little Mermaid," she says promptly. Daddy groans.

"We’ll wait for Mommy for that one," he says.

When Mommy enters the room, she smiles at Allison all tucked in. "Have we picked out a story yet?"

"Take a guess, why don’t you," Daddy says from where he is sitting on Allison’s bed. One hand has found a firm grip around Allison’s nudging feet and is holding them hostage. He lowers his head to blow on them through her blanket and Allison squeals delightedly.

Mommy beams as she settles herself in the chair beside the bed, chosen book in her hands. "This is my favorite story too," she confides, bending over to smooth down Allison's curls, her covers. "I’m glad you picked it. For the fifth time," she laughs.

"Seventh," Allison corrects shyly, demonstrating with the correct amount of fingers.

"Seventh," Mommy agrees, and the corners of her eyes crinkle again. "Thank you, baby."

The book is worn and old, having been Mommy’s when  _she_  was Allison’s own age. "A hereditary thing," Daddy quips, but his voice is gruff and kind, and when Allison opens her eyes to peek, she catches Mommy’s small, rapid blink and Daddy reaching his other hand over to draw her closer to him, and Allison quickly closes her eyes again.

A moment later, Mommy begins: "Deep beneath the sea lived a little mermaid named Ariel..."  _That’s me,_  Allison thinks sleepily, and gives a small, satisfied sigh.

Somewhere along the way, Mommy’s voice becomes gentle waves that lull her until she is seemingly drifting below the sea, weightless and faraway. But even then, her heart is anchored by a certain sort of forever found only in warm eyes and strong arms and so, when it is time, she slips into her dreams, unafraid.

 

**Author's Note:**

> the text for the little mermaid story comes from [HERE](http://princess.disney.com/ariels-story). thanks so much for reading!


End file.
